More than Family
by morethanfamily
Summary: Dom, the Rock, and a Thanksgiving dinner at Brian's house. There were many ways for this to go wrong, but a love story was certainly not what anyone would have expected.


_**More Than Family**_

**Brian**

I always knew when Dom was coming home. It didn't matter which flashy car he was behind the wheel of, the sound of wheels scraping across concrete and the license plate he had carried with him for years – the one Mia had given him – meant my brother-in-law was finally returning. I was in the front garden when he pulled up, halfway under a car dripping oil down the front of my shirt, and the first thing I saw was that damn personalised license plate. 'FAMILY'. That was the first and last thing you needed to know about Dominic Toretto. He didn't do things by halves, especially not love, and it was my favourite thing about him.

I slid out from under the car, the wooden dolly digging into my left shoulder, and jumped up to give him a bro-hug.

"Brian," he said by way of greeting. "How've things been?"

"You're looking good," I said instead of answering.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, man, I've been meaning to ask how things have been going with the Rock." I knew I would regret it if I didn't bring this up sooner rather than later. Mia and I'd been out of the game for a while now. Despite what Dom might say, there was no room for a family in our business, at least not a proper one. Not the sort with babies and a dog and a picket fence. We'd been in hiding once already, I wasn't eager to repeat the experience. I was at least part of the way to an excuse for asking. I could pretend I didn't know, although the answer had been obvious. I didn't really fancy myself a matchmaker, but I could make a few strategic moves.

He gave me the sort of look only Dominic Toretto could pull off, the sort that said he could kill me and we both knew it. "Things haven't been going. He's not a friend. He's not family. Why would you ask?"

"He called me today, and anyway, I ended up inviting him over for Thanksgiving. He's part of the crew, sort of, it seemed rude not to."

And then I really thought he would kill me, family or not.

**Dom**

I didn't get home as often as I wanted. My family, the one of blood and marriage, the one made up of Brian, Mia, and the kids, moved on in my absence. I was scared that the kids always looked so much older than the last time I had been home. Jack was so big I almost didn't recognize him when he ran across the doorstep and into my arms.

"Hey, little man." I ruffled his hair. It was always so weird to see my nephew. He had Brian's rugged hair but the same gap-toothed smile I had grown so used to seeing on Mia's face. "You wanna drive?"

"Oh no." Mia was standing in the doorway and leaned forward to give me a peck on the cheek. "Be careful now."

"I always am," I told her and headed back towards my car, Jack hanging from one arm. I placed him on my lap in the driver's seat and wrapped my hands around his on the steering wheel. He started wriggling just as we started backing up the driveway and in the second I turned to look at him, the car behind me laying on the horn.

I turned around to see the Rock hanging out his window, one hand still on the horn. He looked good, although I would have never admitted it out loud. I wasn't sure when exactly we had started hating each other but I was pretty damn sure it was when he broke into my warehouse and tried to kill me. There were some things that were harder to forgive than others and even though he had proven his loyalty a thousand times over, in situations where he had really no reason to help us, I never forgot first impressions. I never forgot people who threatened my people. And Brian was wrong – he was part of the crew, but he certainly wasn't family.

And yet I couldn't help himself playing cute. I had a sudden urge to please him that I had never felt before.

"It was Jack, not me," I called before I could stop myself.

He just looked at me, eyebrow raised. Maybe being an uncle had softened me. Or maybe I was just really tired of being alone.

**The Rock**

I looked across the dinner table at him, unable to keep my hands still. I didn't know what had come over me, but I couldn't keep my eyes off him; his lips, his strong hands, and the way he gripped the silverware just a bit too harshly, as if he might snap it in half. I had never wanted someone so badly.

I couldn't even listen to what Brian was saying, because Dom was leaning back in his seat and I could see his muscles tight under a black button up. Here I was, having Thanksgiving dinner with him and his entire family, and all I wanted to do was jump him. I had never been less hungry, my entire appetite disappearing into nerves. It felt ridiculous to say I had butterflies because I wasn't in love with him – I really wasn't in love with him – but whatever this feeling was, I didn't recognise it.

I don't know what came over me, but suddenly I was on my feet. I could feel Mia and Brian staring at me, think they might even have said something, but I only had eyes for Dom. I didn't need to say anything, just let my eyes flick from his eyes to his lips and then back up to maintain eye contact. He got to his feet just as awkwardly as I had.

"We have to go," he said, and the bulge in his trousers wasn't fooling anyone. "Something has come up with the Diplomatic Security Service. Official business."

Brian certainly wasn't able to hide his amusement but he let us go anyway, promising a repeat dinner. I barely heard anything, just followed Dom down the drive.

**Dom**

The car was certainly not a private enough place. We had been too distracted to try and move the Rock's car which was blocking mine in and had instead settled for the backseat, hoping Brian and Mia would stay inside. I had a feeling they knew what was going on.

I couldn't have said what it was, but I wanted him suddenly in a way I never had before. Everyone always knew the best stories involved love. I thought I'd been given enough. But I certainly wouldn't have minded being given something of his.

And then his lips were crashing into mine and it was not unlike driving, the push and pull, steering my body against his, one hand on his waist as the other fumbled with his shirt. When it was finally over his head, it took everything in my power not to immediately reach for the buckle of his trousers. I wanted to accelerate this whole process, but I didn't want to scare him. There had never been a question of how far this would go, but maybe there should have been.

I shouldn't have worried, though. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, he reached for my belt and undid it with one try, tugging my trousers loose from my body. He was a good driver, careful and measured in all his actions, and so it shouldn't have been a surprise when he was able to manoeuvre my body so easily, like he had been training for it his entire life.

"I live my life a quarter mile at a time, and the road keeps taking me closer to you," I whispered against his lips, and then reached between his legs for the gearstick. It was hard in my hand, and I was nearly shaking with anticipation. He moaned, gripping my shoulder in his strong fingers. It shouldn't have worked – the almost-romance of it against a backdrop of so much hatred, the way such strong men could be so soft around each other, or even the way our two muscular bodies were able to fit around each other so perfectly in the backseat of my too-small car. This was a racing car, not a car for sex, and yet we had found each other in it. And yet he was hot and panting beside me, and this was what mattered. This moment right here where, just for a second, we were more than family. And so my lips met his again and the rest of the world faded away. The car was spinning out and I should have been braced for impact, but the only forceful collision would be with this man and his body, which I had spent too long memorising from across a room without realising I was doing it. It was just the two of us in the backseat of my car, doing the only thing we knew how.

It felt like the end of a great race, where you only beat the other car by an inch and you are both high with adrenaline and the rush of surviving another night in a profession that is intended to kill you. He was intended to kill me, but this was so much better.


End file.
